


Soldier of The Dreams Once Lost

by AMaskOnTwoFaces



Series: In Time We'll Thaw [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: But You Catch My Drift, But this portrayal is closer to Comics!Clint than MCU!Clint, Clint's Halfway House for Ex-Brainwashed Assassins, Descriptions of Sensory Overload, Hydra Steve Rogers, I mean I completely threw out the plot to that movie with the prequel to this fic, I've never actually read the Hawkeye comics, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Landlord!Clint Barton, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, The timeline is still more MCU though, but only as much as the Winter Soldier is Hydra, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23637019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMaskOnTwoFaces/pseuds/AMaskOnTwoFaces
Summary: There are eyes on them.These are not the eyes of an enemy, searching for weakness.  Not the eyes of someone promising harm.But they are not just curious eyes.These are the eyes of the wary, ready to defend, and belonging to someone skilled enough to back that up.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson (background), James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Series: In Time We'll Thaw [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1159550
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Soldier of The Dreams Once Lost

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel that's been in the works since I rewrote the first fic in this series. One-Shot for now. May eventually be expanded. May not be.

There are eyes on them.

These are not the eyes of an enemy, searching for weakness. Not the eyes of someone promising harm.

But they are not just curious eyes.

These are the eyes of the wary, ready to defend, and belonging to someone skilled enough to back that up.

But for now, the observation is passive, so Bucky lets their watcher be.

Steve, oblivious to the subtle pressure that is the weight of a sniper’s gaze, walks on through the crowds, Bucky trailing aimless behind him. He’s already forgotten where Steve said they’re going, the destination dismissed as unimportant, especially in relation to the heavy fog that’s permeating through his memories today. Today is not a good day for Bucky, but it’s not necessarily a bad day either.

The crowds, though, leave his head pounding under the combined weight of the fog and their noise. He hopes they get to somewhere quieter soon.

The eyes are following them though, tailing them as they weave through the masses. Their shadow might make contact with them as soon as they reach a less crowded area.

Bucky should warn Steve about that.

He decides to do so, even though the fog makes talking painful.

“Steve,” he says, thankfully not having to raise his voice for Steve to hear him, “We have a tail.”

Steve doesn’t tense up, just tips his head in response. He’s taking his cue from Bucky, noticing his lack of tension and following suit.

They turn down an alley street, following it down to a private nook. They wait patiently for a figure to show on the roof opposite. The man looks down at them for a second, then starts to make his way down the building to meet him.

He wears street clothes (a _purple_ hoodie, oddly, which wouldn’t help him blend in anywhere), but is obviously armed, carrying guns and knives hidden around his person. He has the bearing of a strong, heavily trained combatant, but doesn’t carry the stiff posture of a military man.

The man stops several paces away, just out of range for either party to suddenly attack without giving the other time to defend.

“So…” he drawls, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie (where he casually palms a throwing knife, but it’s so well done that Bucky doubts even Steve noticed), “What’s there to do for two ex-brainwashed HYDRA assassins around here?”

A beat passed.

Bucky could have sworn that his heart suddenly teleported to his throat. It’s never a good sign when someone knows who they were.

“Or should I say the decades-long prisoners of war; Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes?” 

The man’s still loose and calm, smiling slightly even as he fingers the knife in his pocket.

“And who are you to ask?” Steve commands, defensive.

The man shrugs, straightening up a bit. “I was an agent of SHIELD before it came out that it was basically half-HYDRA.” His eyes dart away. “I also have some experience with that brainwashing schtick from the whole Loki/ Battle of New York thing a couple years ago.”

Steve nods. He’s generally the more capable of the two when it comes to social navigation; especially on days like today when Bucky’s head prevents him from thinking well enough to figure out the proper responses. Even so, neither of them are used to people expecting them to talk back, so Steve lets a silence form when he can’t figure out what he should say in response to that admission from the man.

“What did you want? Why were you following us?” Steve finally asks, deciding to gather intel about their strange tail.

The man shrugs again. “This is my neighborhood. I was concerned when I saw you ‘cause I figured you were either two difficult opponents about to cause trouble, or two high profile targets possibly trailing trouble behind you.”

Steve shakes his head, “We don’t have missions anymore. We left HYDRA and haven’t fought except in self-defense since.” He pauses, then decides that giving away even more intel would be beneficial in this situation, “They last caught up to us a year ago. We believe they’ve either decided to stop wasting men trying to bring us back in or they’ve lost our trail.”

The man cocks his head, processing this intel, before finally letting go of the knife in his pocket. “You got anywhere to stay right now? Cause if not I got a guest room and a couch you can take advantage of. Pizza too.”

Steve glances at Bucky. Bucky glances at Steve. Bucky tilts his head another two degrees, and like that they’ve come to an agreement.

Steve nods at the man, “We’d appreciate it, thank you.”

* * *

There’s an unfortunate moment when they first enter the apartment of the purple-shirted man. 

They hear the heartbeat of someone else inside as they approach, beating in that sort of tense-calm rhythm of a trained combatant on alert. Steve and Bucky therefore go on alert as well, and when the door opens to reveal the muzzle of a pistol aimed at them, they’re ready to bring their own weapons up in response.

“Whoa!” the purple-shirted man startles, eyes wide at the standoff he suddenly has on his hands. “Babe,” he addresses the armed man standing in his apartment, “I didn’t realize you would be by. I would have warned you; they’re fine, I vetted them.”

This ‘Babe’ rolls his eyes but relaxes a bit. His gun is still trained on Steve and Bucky (and their’s on him), but he already looks a bit more at ease. His words belly that though, “Not like your vetting actually means anything, Hawkeye.”

Hawkeye. An Avenger, then. Bucky’s arm recalibrates at the intel.

Hawkeye snorts, but doesn’t refute that claim. He pushes into the apartment, seeming to carelessly turn his back on the confrontation occurring in his doorway. “Let them in,” he calls back to the man still facing them, “They were just wandering around without a place to stay.”

The man sighs in return, but lowers his gun, returning it to its holster as he steps inside, “You can’t just collect every assassin you come across.”

“There are others?” Steve asks, still taking the lead.

“Just one,” Hawkeye says, looking pointedly at ‘Babe’ as he does so, “She’s now a great partner in the field, but doesn’t normally drop by my humble abode here. I don’t think you’ll see her anytime soon.”

There’s a blur out of the corner of Bucky’s eye accompanied by a quick, sharp sound as Hawkeye finishes speaking. Bucky tenses, dropping further into a battle stance as his hands bring his weapon around to face this new threat. It’s a dog, he realizes, even as he notices Steve sliding over to cover the side he left exposed to the two men; a big, fluffy, pale-yellow dog that launches itself straight into Hawkeye. The man laughs, amused at the animal’s antics even as he gently pushes it back down to standing on the floor.

“Down boy!” He laughs, “Yes, yes, it’s good to see you too Lucky!”

‘Babe’ snorts and makes a show of turning his attention back to Steve and Bucky, not even blinking at the sight of them relaxing back from their defensive position. “Would you like anything to drink?” he asks, “Coffee, water? I think there might be some juice or energy drinks in the fridge, probably some beer or soda as well. The stock depends on how long it’s been since Hawkeye has last gone to the store.”

“Hey!” Hawkeye exclaims, “I went just last week! Or, the week before that...aw, nevermind, just look in the damn fridge, if you find anything edible, you’re welcome to it. Anyways! I promised pizza! Got any requests for toppings?”

Steve and Bucky just blankly stare back, quite unsure what is happening.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Hawkeye shrugs, seemingly unconcerned by their lack of response, “You do have massive metabolisms, though, right?”

Since neither Steve nor Bucky are sure what baseline the quantity of ‘massive’ would be compared to, Steve answers with a non-answer, hoping it conveys the same information they were being asked for, “We each require 6,000 calories a day to maintain basic functionality.”

Hawkeye hums, his eyes flicking over to ‘Babe’ to convey something, “Alright, that’s good man. I’ll just order like ten pizzas right now, and whatever we don’t eat can be reheated later, sound good?”

Steve nods. Bucky’s head redoubles it’s pounding. He can’t control the quick moment of tension that runs through his body at the fresh onslaught of pain. Steve’s eyes flick over to him, seeing his pain and his need to shut down for a bit. “You said you had a room we could use?” Steve asks.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Right this way!” 

Hawkeye walks towards a narrow hallway off to the side of the kitchen area. Steve and Bucky hesitate to follow, since that would mean putting their backs to ‘Babe’, who was still leaning against a counter with his arms crossed over his chest. He must see their conundrum, though, because he pushes himself up to follow Hawkeye, putting his back to Steve and Bucky with little hesitation.

“Alright, aright,” says Hawkeye, rubbing his hands together, “So, grand tour! Through this door is the guest bedroom, which is yours to use for as long as you need,” he throws the door open, allowing the menagerie of assorted ex-agents crammed into the tiny hallway to catch a glimpse of the bare, off-white walls, simple wooden dressers, and a bed covered in blue sheets found inside, “please keep damages to a minimum. While I can do some simple repairs, I’m not made of money, so I would appreciate not having to replace a lot of things or rebuild walls if you can help it. Now, this door leads to the bathroom,” he motions to the door left ajar on the other side of the hall, “extra towels are in the cabinet under the sink, feel free to use any of the soap or shampoo in there if you would like to wash up. And last but not least, the door at the end here is my bedroom.”

“Enter at your own risk.” ‘Babe’ chimes in, “While he somehow manages to keep the rest of the apartment acceptably clean--mostly due to my threats to not visit if he didn’t--his bedroom is so much of a dump that it’s a hazard to your health. If you must enter to check the perimeter, I ask for your own safety that you don’t stay in there for any longer than necessary.”

Hawkeye snorts, “Okay, like, mostly truth? But greatly exaggerated, I assure you.” ‘Babe’ lifts his eyebrows, “Okay, okay! Only _mostly_ exaggerated. Anyways, Phil and I will be in the living room ordering pizza, feel free to have a look around and let us know if you need anything!” Hawkeye then proceeded to grab ‘Babe’s arm and tow him back towards the apartment entrance.

Three heartbeats pass, then Steve and Bucky lock eyes, agreeing that Bucky will stand guard in the hall while Steve scouts the room. Bucky’s eyes wander back towards the main living room, where ‘Babe’ (who is also Phil?) has sat on a couch and turned on the TV in front of him, though the normally-associated sound is non-existent and his eyes, instead of watching the images flashing on-screen, are glued to where Hawkeye is pacing around in the kitchen area calling someone on his cell-phone. Hawkeye’s voice carries clearly over to where Bucky still stands in the hallway, and if he focuses through the pounding of his head, he can make out the voice of the pizza place answering on the other side.

Bucky is aware of Steve finishing his room check when his heartbeat draws near enough to mean he’s standing in the doorframe. When Bucky glances over, Steve’s jaw is unclenched, so the room must check out fine. He follows Steve inside. They close the door, leaving the lights off and the curtains over the single window drawn shut, trying to block out as much unneeded stimulus as possible.

Bucky sits on the floor on the far side of the bed, the mattress a soft, comfortable luxury behind his back. He plants his feet on the floor, places his elbows on his knees, and rests his forehead on his forearms. He lets himself breathe, focuses on letting the tension melt out of his muscles, lets it drip out of his overtaxed mind.

Steve stands guard leaning against the wall opposite the door, giving him both clear sightlines to Bucky, where he sits hunched over on the floor, and the entrance of the room, through which murmurs of voices can be heard from the other people residing within the apartment. He takes out a favored switch blade and Bucky hears the familiar snicks of _open twirl close, open twirl close_ , that speak of safety and the ease of idly waiting for time to pass; a habit of restless motion gained after their escape. It comforts Bucky. He focuses on timing his breath to that pattern, and with it he lets himself drift.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please comment any thoughts, questions, or emotional outbursts! I love hearing from you! And Kudos are also gladly welcomed; they feed this author’s soul!


End file.
